Last week I showed you Little Duck’s Adventure. This week I want to show you Frida’s. I’ve decided try try to take one of the dogs for a walk every day. Frida got the first turn and did great. After a scare last week when we thought we were going to have to put her down, the miracles of modern medicine saved the day, and she’s like a young dog again. The day after the big rains, we went down to inspect the lake along the malecon. (Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.)

Although the curled under tail indicates otherwise, Frida was in a good mood and was perfectly behaved and energetic.

I counted eight waterfalls in the mountains above the town. I live up on that mountain!

A closeup of the largest seasonal falls.

Senor Garcia is the name of this dormant volcanic mountain.

Those trees out in the water wer on dry land a few months ago.

As were these.

These water hyacinths give testimony to the fact that they are opening the spillways on the Lerma River to let more water into Lake Chapala.

The extended rainy season has kept the mountains lush.

The spire of the San Juan Cosala church stands out against the lush green of the mountains.

The playground equipment acquired a water hazard.

But these little girls didn’t let it stop them.

They were sopping wet either from the waist down

Or the knees down.

But this little boy managed to maintain his grip

and not get wet at all.

Boats were nestled in among the water hyacinth.

We walked past the fisherman’s flotilla on our way back to the car.

Past the Mayan calendar mural mouldering away on the wall near our car.

And finally, our own car.

We weren’t the only ones ending our sojourn on the beach but we all seemed to be a pretty happy bunch. Frida the most happy of all.

Like this:

Water and Rocks

When I arrived back in Mexico two nights ago,
as I was leaving the airport in the backseat of a taxi, two events happened.

One was the eruption of Colima Volcano, 50 miles away from my house.

The other was a waterspout that took water from the lake and dumped it on the mountains above my house. That event, added to massive rain on that night and this morning, led to the culverts becoming swift-running streams and the cobblestone streets next to my house being littered by stones brought down the arroyos, which all happen to empty into streets which become part of the drainage system.

After the rain finally ended today and the skies cleared, I decided to venture out to see what condition the world around me was in. I could hear the rushing sound that told me that water was still rushing down from the mountain.

Although the street that ran to the side of my house was littered with stones, the gardener across the street had gathered up all the stones on the street that ran horizontally across the hill, and put them in small piles, so it was passable. Luckily, no boulders had been brought down this time, for in the past boulders as large as small cars had rolled down, completely tearing up the roads.

At the end of my street, the culvert had turned into a small stream, and as usually happens after a series of big rains, children and their parents were treating the culverts like spas––wading and sometimes immersing their entire bodies.

At every street corner they could be seen cavorting like seals and having a wonderful time, as were this grandmother, daughter and baby boy at the end of my street.

I couldn’t resist going to talk to them. The baby was just objecting to the cold water when I arrived, and the mother had set him up on a rock and was gathering stones for him to hold.

He hoarded them in each hand.

“Does he know how to throw rocks?” I asked, and when the mother shook her head no, I set about teaching him how.After an initial reluctance to let go of the rocks,
He was a fast learner!And soon we had trouble keeping him supplied with enough pebbles.

Meanwhile, the little stream rushed on, tumbling some of the small stones down the hill towards the Raquet club
to round the corner

and rush on down to the village and into the lake.Those trees out in the lake were once on dry land and the chains of water hyacinths I could make out even at this distance gave testimony to the fact that in addition to the rainfall, extra water was being let out of the spillways of dams further upstream on the Lerma river. I decided it was time to drive down to the lake to take Frida for a walk to investigate further.

To Be Continued

If you are interested in seeing what happens when a tromba (super-saturated cloud or waterspout) empties out over the mountain above me after days of very hard rain, look HERE. You won’t believe this many rocks could come down in a 15 minute period! It took a year to repair the damage.

Today’s prompt is “breakthrough,” and if these aren”t two examples of types of breakthroughs, I don’t know what is! I guess I anticipated the prompt.

My gardener’s youngest son Ishmael is a rare bird. First of all, he’s rarely seen, as he is extremely shy. He has also in the past been frightened of my dogs, me, all of the kids at school, his teacher and anyone who isn’t a parent or brother. Over the past year, I’ve been trying to curry his favor with coloring books, toys, balls to throw for the dog and most recently, an Easter Egg hunt that involved both candy and toys. At first he was shy, hiding behind his parents, but by the end of the time he was here he was rushing around the front garden trying to fill his basket. These photos record some former times, including his first approach to Diego–a very rare occasion! (Click to enlarge photos.)

Some of these photos you have seen before, but they needed to be in the collage. As usual, click if you want a larger view and to read the caption under two of the photos. Enjoy.

For the first five minutes I was in this baby’s mother’s store, I was fascinated by the baby’s stillness and her fascination with her own hands. That whole time she stared at her right hand as though she held an iPhone in it. I was beginning to wonder if she was autistic and went up to see if she’d respond to me.

Like this:

(When I walked the Ajijic malecon with three good friends yesterday, I came across these friends frolicking in the lake slightly below us. They were having such a glorious time and I identified completely, since all the swimming I did prior to my twenties was in stock dams (and occasionally the river) back in South Dakota. I have no better memories of childhood and I’m sure these children will feel the same way. A little water to splash in, something to investigate along the way, sun and your friends––what more is needed for a perfect day?

(Click on first photo and then on arrows to see full-sized photos.)

I’ve done so many posts on the subject of friendship–at least five in the past year, but please go HERE to see a post I made two years ago that most of you probably haven’t seen before.